


The Other Red Guitar

by poppetawoppet



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-01
Updated: 2010-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-19 07:22:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4737665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppetawoppet/pseuds/poppetawoppet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kris has a guitar that reminds him of Adam</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Red Guitar

The one thing about being a rock star was that there were always guitars.

Acoustic. Electric. All makes and models and colors. Kris had once fretted over giving away one guitar, now he practically tripped over them.

He still liked to give them away. Sell them for charity. But some he kept. The Hummingbird, from Idol, that he had named Fred just to annoy Allison. The Gibson electric from his first tour. The one he and Cale often called the Other Red Guitar. They had written a stupid song about it that August.

But it had other memories, too.

Kris sat in his studio, strumming chords on it, remembering the way it felt. Remembering bringing it home, and trying to teach Adam how to play it.

Adam had come to visit after the first baby came, to help out, he had said. Kris had said (and had been right) that Adam just wanted to make sure the baby didn't end up in plaid onesies.

Adam and Rose had become best buddies since then, and she was spoiled rotten. (So was Jacob, and Kris was sure the new baby would be too.)

But Adam had begged to learn just a little, and Kris had grumbled and complained, but it had been the old days all over again, stupid jokes and early mornings. Katy had kicked them out more than once in exasperation, and Adam told Kris he owed her jewelry or something.

Kris paused and leaned back. He was content. Happy.

But looking at the guitar, he remembered it in Adam's hands, his long fingers strumming it carefully, Kris adjusting them just slightly. The wide grin when Adam was able to make his way through a simple rock song. The reaction of the first crowd when Adam pulled his own guitar out.

Kris looked at the picture of his family he had hung by the door. He grinned at Rose's expression, somewhere in between a pose and a laugh.

He looked back down at the guitar, realizing he had been playing the chords of that song from oh so long ago, and a strange ache filled him. It was always there when he played this guitar, a secret loneliness he couldn't quite explain. A missed opportunity that had never really been there.

Kris put the guitar back in its case, along with the basic sheet music he still kept with it. Maybe he would teach Rose how to play. She'd probably like that.

Kris closed the door to the studio, the ache slowly fading as he went to go find his children and rile them up before dinner.

He'd be back again tomorrow.  
>


End file.
